


Laced Tight

by Crowleysheiress



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enjolras Has Feelings, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Fluff, Gen, Kindness, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One-Sided Enjolras/Grantaire, Pining, Pining Grantaire, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 14:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8331883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowleysheiress/pseuds/Crowleysheiress
Summary: Enjolras can't tie his shoelaces. Grantaire finds out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so maybe you know that there was a Tumblr post going around that basically said that the OP couldn't believe that in the brick Enjolras is only 22 when they know real 22 year old people who can't tie their (metaphorical) shoelaces. Somebody then responded that we can't know for sure if Enjolras can actually tie his shoes and that kinda struck my Inspiration and this happened.  
> I have no idea why I find the idea of Enjolras being unable to tie his own shoelaces so appealing, but that image was enough to make me write my first Les Mis fic ever, so, enjoy!

Laced tight

„Grantaire? Could I talk to you after class for a second?“

Oh god. How come such a simple sentence could be this high on both his „I dread the day Enjolras will say this to me“ and „I really hope Enjolras will one day say this to me“ lists?

_An answer, Grantaire, you have to answer him,_ he reminded himself.

„Sure. Anything particular you need?“ he asked casually and got a wonderful view of the back of Enjolras’ head as the other man walked straight away into the lecture hall, ignoring his question.

_Surely he just hasn’t heard me,_ he thought _. Or he hates me._

Grantaire trundled into the hall himself and flopped down onto his chair. It wasn’t _his_ chair of course, but it was the only one that combined his two defining reasons to choose any seat. Closeness to the exit and a position from which he could stare at Enjolras unabashed without the other man noticing. Because let’s face it, staring at Enjolras and thinking about leaving were basically the only two things he did during class.

He still had no idea what had ridden him to sign up for Advanced Socioeconomics, he was majoring in _Art_ for god’s sake! And he even had his minimum amount of classes for this term already covered! He didn’t have to be here!

And yet, he wanted to, he had signed up after all.

Why? Well, of course there was a reason and that reason was the same that had basically motivated most of his actions for the past couple of years.

Enjolras.

He desperately wanted to spend more time with Enjolras, more than just the few hours they saw each other at the ABC meetings. Not that lectures were any different. Enjolras seemed to be keen on either profoundly ignoring or viciously arguing with him. But he was used to it, after all, since this was basically what his relationship with Enjolras was. Probably because he hated him.

The lecture seemed to pass in a dull blur and when the bell ringed he had no idea what the teacher‘s monologue or the following class discussion had been about. He only dimly remembered Enjolras‘ voice, cutting through the room and dismantling some poor other students argumentation.

_That could have been you,_ he reminded himself. _That probably will be you in a few minutes._

Enjolras sure took his damn time to leave the hall, enough time for Grantaire to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable worst case scenario. Surely Enjolras would ask him to stop bothering him at the meetings. Or not to come altogether anymore. Maybe he even would tell him to drop out of this class, so he wouldn’t have to see him here as well.

Oh god. He was doomed. He should just walk away right now, delay the heartbreak, stalk Enjolras from the shadows instead and die a lonely and sad death.

Gosh what a wonderful life.

„Grantaire?“

Speak of the devil.

„Yes, sir!“ he said and gave Enjolras his widest smile. _Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let him know…_

Enjolras crossed his arms and stared at some point on the wall behind Grantaire, while the last few students continued to trail out of the hall.

„I need a favor.“ He said, once the final two guys were gone.

_He wants me to leave._

„Anything you say!“ He blurted out.

„Okay“ said Enjolras and moistened his lips. Grantaire had to admit that this single motion and especially the quick appearance of Enjolras’ tongue was far more fascinating than the entire lecture had been.

„Okay“ Enjolras said again. „That’s good. Very good. I just…“ he huffed.

And then he just… deflated.

His gaze dropped to the floor and his shoulders, which always looked so tense and drawn, drooped. He even uncrossed his arms and stuffed his hands in the pocket’s of his red hoodie instead.

„I need your help.“ He said weakly.

„Oh?“

Enjolras needed his help! Enjolras didn‘t want him to leave him alone! Yee-haw! Wait… Enjolras needed help. _Enjolras_ needed _help._

„What do you need?“ Grantaire asked, concern tainting his voice.

„It’s really kind of ridiculous and I’m really sorry to even bother you about it, but it’s very urgent and usually I would just ask Combeferre, but he’s on this excursion with some guys from his neurology prep workshop and I really can’t do it myself and it’s really just ridiculous.“ He concluded and Grantaire realized that he had been _babbling._

Enjolras never babbled. Or stammered, for the matter. Enjolras was eloquence personificated. Whatever it was, it was obviously bothering him a great deal.

„Enjolras. Just say it. I won’t judge.“

„Ineedyoutotiemyshoelaces“

„…wut?“

Enjolras tooka deep breath and closed his eyes. He looked honestly more uncomfortable than Grantaire had ever seen him.

„I need you to tie my shoelaces.“ He said.

For a moment neither of them said a thing.

Then Grantaire laughed. He knew that it was horribly inappropriate, but he couldn’t stop himself. Enjolras wanted him to tie his _shoes._

„Your kidding, right? You want me to tie your shoes? That’s some kind of joke isn’t it? Because I said I would do anything, you want to test me, don’t you?“

„No“ Enjolras mumbled and, oh god, he sounded absolutely devastated. „Why would I want to test you? I… I just…it’s…“ he stopped for a second, swallowed, and stared onto his feet. „I’ll just ask Combeferre when he get’s back…“

Enjolras turned to leave and Grantaire only saw his eyes for a split second, before he turned his back to him, but that was enough to make him realize that he was a horrible trashcan of a human being, because, shit, Enjolras looked like he was about to cry.

And with the force of a high-speed train it hit him that if he would let him walk away right now he would never forgive himself and Enjolras wouldn’t either.

„Enjolras, wait!“ He cried and silently thanked God, Yoda and all other divine beings when the other man did stop in his tracks.

„I didn’t mean to laugh at you. Really. I was just surprised! I kind of really expected anything except something like that. Not that that’s an excuse. I upset you and I’m really sorry! Really. I’m so sorry.“ He finished weakly. „And I will tie your shoes. Unless you don’t want me to anymore.“

For a second Enjolras did not move, before he twirled around and trudged up to Grantaire, his face as red as his jacket.

He didn’t meet Grantaire’s gaze and looked thouroughly uncomfortable, but he did stop in front of him nonetheless.

„Should I get a chair or something? I really wouldn’t want you to kneel in front of me.“ He mumbled.

„No, I want to.“ Said Grantaire. Okay, that came out weird, but Enjolras didn’t seem to notice.

He knelt down and bent over a little and focused on Enjolras‘ shoes. He was wearing the same old, worn boots he seemed to own since Grantaire knew him. The shoes were encrusted with dirt and salt where muddy snow had melted and redried and the laces were, of course, untied.

„How come you can’t tie your shoes, Enjolras? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.“ He added quickly when Enjolras didn’t say anything for a split second too long.

He felt him tensing under his hand as he took hold of the laces.

„I… you don’t know anything about my… family situation, don’t you? Of course not, I never talked to you about it.“ He answered himself and sighed.

„My parents weren’t really… around when I was a child. Father was incredibly invested in the company and Mother had the Country Club and her cocktail parties and lunch invitations and the point is, they didn‘t particulary bothered to spent time with me. At all.“

„Wow“

„It’s a bit of a tear-jerker, isn’t it? Well, I had a nanny until I was five and she always tied my shoelaces for me when I was little. When she got fired I figured out stuff like dressing myself and doing my buttons out on my own at some point, but shoelacing never clicked with me. When I started school I wore velcros and those Converse knockoffs with zippers on the side, but these only come up to a certain size. I mean, there are those ergonomic therapy shoes, but I was 13 and not an idiot, I knew that people my age shouldn’t wear velcros anymore. So those were out of option.“

Enjolras sighed and paused for a moment. Grantaire could almost feel his gaze lingering on the top of his head. He had tied the left shoe , but had been listening too intently to focus on the other one. Enjolras didn’t seem to notice though, as he slowly started talking again.

„So for a while I wasn’t sure what to do. There is a certain age at which it‘s just unacceptable for a kid not to know how to bind their shoelaces and I knew that I had crossed that age long ago. So I couldn’t just ask a teacher or staffmember. They probably just would have thought I’d be joking anyway, once you enter school everyone just assumes that you can already do it and I wasn’t developmentally delayed in any other area. My parents just would have laughed at me. Or called me stupid. And I didn’t want that so I didn’t ask them either.“

„So what did you do?“

„I told Combeferre.“

Of course he told Combeferre. „And how did he react?“

„Good, I guess. I mean, he was surprised, but he didn’t mock me. Or told me I was stupid. And then he tied my shoes for me.“

„And he didn’t really stop ever since.“

Enjolras made a huffing noise that may or may not be a laugh and shifted his weight a little.

„He didn’t, did he? And he made sure he didn‘t have to do it every day, he made double or triple knots, that would stay bound for a while, but he made them more at the middle of the lace, so that I could put on my shoes without opening them.“

„How thoughtful of him.“ Grantaire didn’t think about that of course. Oh well.

„There. All done now.“ He said and patted Enjolras‘ foot.

„Thank you“ said the other man and took a look at his shoes while Grantaire flopped back onto his bottom and stared up at Enjolras.

„I’ve just got one more question, Apollo.“

„Mmhm? _And don’t call me that!“_

„Why didn’t Combeferre just taught you how to tie your shoes?“

Fascinating. Their fearless leader was capable of blushing deep crimson in under three seconds.

„It’s not that easy“ he said, sounding forced. „It’s not like he didn’t try. Or that I didn’t try. Because I did! I watched other people do it and saw tutorials and even read about it in those books for first time parents. I know how to tie shoelaces! Theoretically.“

O god, Enjolras looked miserable. Grantaire wanted to hold him. And kiss him. And tell him that he was a beautiful greek god with numerous talents and gifts who was incredible despite not being able to tie his shoes.

„Maybe it’s some sort of mental blockade? Or one of those developmental things, like when you can only learn to talk or walk during a certain age?“ He said instead and stood up now. Enjolras still looked sad though. Goddamnit.

„Besides, it really is your parent’s fault. I mean, who doesn’t teach their child how to tie their shoes. That’s messed up, man.“ He added.

Enjolras shrugged and franky, he looked a bit awkward now. Like he really desperately wanted to say something, but just couldn’t bring himself to articulate it.

Enjolras at loss for words. That was a premiere too.

„You’re not going to tell anyone about this, will you?“ He then asked, hesitating slightly.

Ha! Grantaire knew it! He was fucking Sherlock!

„Of course not. Not if you’re uncomfortable about it.“

Enjolras looked relived. It was a beautiful sight. Frankly, Enjolras was always a beautiful sight, but he looked particulary stunning when he was happy.

_Making_ him happy filled Grantaire’s chest with a thousand fuzzy feelings. They fought way too often. Maybe he could invite Enjolras for coffee sometime. Without talking about politics or social justice for a while. Without arguing. Yeah, that would be nice. Not that he would ever ask him, Enjolras had the working hours of a top CEO two weeks away from Burn Out and had his days scheduled out weeks in advance. He would just say no and Grantaire would go home, inhale a bottle of vodka on his own and cry.

„Would you like to go get coffee sometimes? With me? Right now maybe?“ He blurted out. Wow, he knew that he was kinky, but this was outright masochism.

Enjolras blinked at him, surprised at his sudden outburst.

„Right now?“ He asked.

„Yeah…?“

„Right now isn’t that good, I have another class, in what I guess about 20 minutes, but I’m free at 5pm today. If you’re still available then.“

In that moment Grantaire swore that all heaven’s opened and tiny fat angels flew down to perform the „Hallelujah“ passage from Händel’s „Messiah“, with harps and Broadway lightning systems.

„Grantaire?“

„Yes! Yes, I have time then!“

„Good. Let’s meet in front of lecture hall #1 then, alright?“

And then he just turned around. Because apparently no one had ever taught him how fucking irritating it was to just walk away without saying „Bye“ either.

Not that that actually mattered to him right now. He had asked Enjolras out and Enjolras had said yes! He was going on a date. With _Enjolras._ Except Enjolras probably wasn’t aware that it was a date, because Enjolras was absolutely dedicated to The CauseTM  and didn’t do dates and besides he was absolutely immune to any form of romantic subtext. And in Enjolras‘ defence, he hadn’t been particulary obvious about it.

Still, Grantaire was inclined to call it a day and mentally prepare himself for his Not-Maybe?-Amost-Date with Enjolras.

He should wear a dress shirt. He absolutely loved his T-Shirts, but honestly, at this point they didn’t look any different than his painting rags. But not a red one, Enjolras loved red and Enjolras was a genius, he would know that Grantaire would wear it on purpose.

Blue maybe. Or black. White would be over the top romantic and he didn’t want to scare Enjolras off after all.

Combeferre! He should call Combeferre! Combeferre knew Enjolras (and appropiate date clothing) like no one else did, except maybe Courfeyrac, but if he’d ask Courfeyrac the news would be spread within the ABC in a few minutes.

And Combeferre could tell him about the books Enjolras‘ was currently reading and the movies and TV shows he recently watched. All kinds of stuff they could talk about without escalating into an argument.

He quickly pulled out his phone and dialled Combeferre’s number, hoping that he wasn’t doing anything too important with his excursion right now.

„Combeferre? Do you have time right know? You’re on lunch break? Great! Listen, you’ve got to tell me about stuff Enjolras likes… of course anything! Well, anything except social justice… And if you had to choose, would you wear a black or blue shirt when meeting Enjolras…?“

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and/or comments would be much appreciated! I'm not a native speaker by the way, so if you found any grammer or vocab errors, please be so kind to tell me.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm on Tumblr! You can talk to me! My name is Crowleysheiress.


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